What's Keeping Us Alive?
by DuskyHorizon
Summary: England was woken from his sleep by a loud American banging his fist to his door. The older nation would have never imagined that America would ever show up on his doorstep, clutching a bleeding arm, and why the hell is the burger lover rambling about the undead? YAOI! UKUS Franada GerIta Spamono Britain/America France/Canada Spain/Romano
1. Prologue

England would have never even considered to be awaken at such an early hour in the morning. With a groan the Englishman had turned over to his side, stuffing his face into his pillow to attempt drowning out the harsh bangs against the front door of his home. A sigh emitted from his lips, grumpily yanking at the covers of his sheets to be pulled from his form, and standing to his feet. His emerald eyes glanced at his clock, before walking over to answer the door. The nation became annoyed by how the person had started relentlessly pounding their fist against the wood, making a horrible loud noise that rang throughout England's ears.

"Who the bloody hell visits someone at this hour!-" The British-man quickly bit his tongue behind his teeth.

America's hands were trembling terribly, his baby blue orbs were glossed over with something that highly resembled fear but looked to be much more deeper. The American was clutching onto the forearm of his left arm. The younger nation's bomber jacket had traces of- Oh dear god was that blood on him? Despite everything, America did look like he'd just witnessed a murder of some sorts.

"He-Hey British dude..." The younger man managed to breath out, with a small chuckle escaping.

"What on earth happened to you!?" England questioned harshly by force of habit, letting the boy inside.

"Lock that door! Just- Oh crap just lock it dude!" America cried out.

England was confused by his former colony's sudden outburst, but strangely enough bid to the younger man's wishes, locking the door.

'This is ridiculous' The Brit thought bitterly, but those thoughts were washed away as he was hit by a wave of guilt seeing the fear on the young nation.

The American had taken his seat on the nearest couch, the older blond simply sitting next to him. England moved his bare hand over America's gloved one, he tried to pull the hand from the area that the young boy was trying to keep hidden.

"It's really nothing man, I'll be fine!"

"If it's really nothing then why can't I look America?"

With that being said the older nation had pulled away the hand, and his eyes looked down at the wound in disbelief. The material of the American's jacket had been torn to the point where the skin would have been exposed. However he was greeted with ripped flesh that was now pulsating with blood, when England had looked closer he had traced out the imprint of teeth. Knitting his eyebrows together in confusion, he was in all honesty trying to cover up his horror.

"America...what happened that made you come here poppet?"

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**Me: I dunno if I should continue or not. Review?**


	2. Chapter 1

_Me: I got randomly inspired to continue this :D Isn't that_  
_just the weirdest thing ever? Jk ANYWAY! Thank all that reviewed_  
_for the prologue :3 I appreciate it greatly!_

_I Do Not Own Hetalia!_

_On with the story! :D_

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(Discord)

_[I'm fine with changing status quo, but not in letting go. Now the world is being torn apart. A terrible catastrophe played by your symphony,what a terrifying work of art. I can't sit idly, no, I can't move at all...]_

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Chapter 1

_America steadily paced himself, after a nearly futile attempt of trying to get some homeless person to leave him alone he had gotten no where at all. Not to mention that the man had also been giving disgusting groans, but luckily he had managed to give him the slip, by taking a turn down the alleyway._

_"Man, this is lame...what's with the people here in London today?" The American muttered underneath his breath._

_He had reached into his pocket to grab a hamburger, but was surprised when he his fingertips met only the material of him bomber jacket. With a groan of disappoint the young nation had leaned up against the cold brick wall. At least one good thing did come from hiding out in this particular spot._

_"The hobo dude is gone!" He smiled happily, and turned to continue his way onwards to his former mentor's house._

_Nearly half of the way there, the terrible groans came back again. However this time, they were much more louder and echoed through the walls, the vibrations of the sickening noise send shivers down the American's spine. He momentarily froze, debating whether or not he should pick up his pace, or stay put to investigate the horrid thing did catch his attention though...the scream of a woman._

_Without thinking America had sprung into a full sprint, turning a corner to see that same homeless man assaulting a girl of what looked to be around eight-teen._

_"Hey! Get off of her man!" He yelled._

_That alone didn't stop the man's actions, however he had reared his head to gaze at the young nation. A complete blank look, blood being smeared across the width of his mouth down to his jawline. Torn tattered flesh with caught in between his teeth, and his dropped the girl almost immediately._

_Something was wrong..._

_Wrong, wrong, wrong!_

_He couldn't react that quickly when being shoved down by the other man. Alfred gasped out in fear, his hand around the mans neck trying protect himself from those teeth that threatened to touch his skin. The homeless man gasped, and let out breathy grunts._

_"Not cool!" With those words, he had kicked the other man off of him._

_The said bloodied individual had been thrown against the wall vigorously, the back of his head cracking open slightly from the impact. Alfred felt his heart stop for a moment as the realization had hit him._

_He had killed a man..._

_But it had to be done hadn't it?...After all he was the hero, and when someone is being attacked...that death had to be justified..._

_"A-ah..."_

_Turning his attention back to the raven haired girl who was now on the floor up against a wall, holding her shoulder. The nation had knelt down beside her, seeing the mixture of blood and tears streaming down her face, as she sobbed about how much pain she was currently experiencing. Who could blame her after all? That man had bitten her rather viciously, her flesh had bit ripped and torn, blooding pouring out of the wound._

_"It'll be okay...you just need a hospital...!" America tried to calm her._

_"H-...hosp-...ital...?" She groaned softly, feeling terribly weak._

_With a small nod he looked her over again. If she did get checked over quickly enough she would more than likely die. He was the hero...he could get that task accomplished done quickly. He just had to remember all those over the top boring tours he'd been received by England when they went sight-seeing. He usually zoned out during them, but they had somehow been stained into his brain._

_"So we just go over there and...", America smiled as the memories came flooding back to him. "Alright! I remember where it is, let's get going now-...?"_

_There was a stinging sensation in his left arm, looking to see that the girl had now sank her teeth down into the forearm of his jacket, America felt the searing hot sensation of having his flesh slightly tearing off from his bone. The ragged, rough teeth now etching into his skin, that grotesque feel of a tongue, hungrily lapping any of the blood that escaped from the wound. He cried out in pain, trying to break free from the vice grip that she held on him. Then finally he had managed to shove the girl away._

_They met each others gaze for a bit._

_The woman's hazel colored eyed had become swallowed by the enriching darkness of the overly blown up pupils. America noticed the slight distant void of any life, and then...well then the next thing he had to do was just a matter of sheer survival._

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"I... didn't want to do it...I just...", The American had went on, and on.

England's eyes never left the large flesh wound that America still struggled to conceal from his eyes. He had completely zoned out on the boy after he had told him what had occurred. America was hurt...he rarely ever got hurt...

"It's just like the movies!" The nation suddenly blurted out.

England rolled his eyes a bit, forcing the other to look him in the eyes. How dare he bring up the atrocious living undead movies at a time like this! He had a bite injury that was getting much more worse by every passing minute, and all he can think about is movies?

"America let's look at this rationally. There's no possible way that you could become undead by just a bite", The man rolled his eyes before continuing "Besides you're already brain-dead so what will the difference be?"

The younger nation would've pouted if the stinging in his arm wasn't present at the time. A long string of protests began to stream off of the American's tongue, before England had silenced him with a loud yell that he was just being a idiot, and the blood loss was now getting to him...yeah, something along those lines.

"Quiet you git! We better get this rinsed before it gets infected..." he mumbled slightly.

After a few more arguments, America gave a small whine when the room temperature water had begun to flow over the bite. Watching his own blood mix with water, and being drained gave him a sort of...defeated feeling.

"Ouch! That stings England!"

"Oh no, it was obviously going to tickle!" England shot back sarcastically.

The loud American had gasped, and shied away when he felt the cotton-swab soaked of antiseptic being pressed against the torn flesh. He gave a small hiss of disapproval as the Englishman had dabbed it a few more times before putting some antibiotic cream on it for good measure.

"You're a big jerk you know that!"

England had now started on wrapping up the large wound in a bandage. It looped around his forearm several times before he had secured it in place.

"I put a bandage on your wound! How is that being a jerk?

"Well it's not a cool bandage! It doesn't even have Batman or Captain America on it, this is lame!" America shot back.

"Just because it doesn't have Iron Man or something on it doesn't mean that it's not a good wrap! Besides, you're acting like a child! Should I kiss it, and give you a cookie too?"

"I'll pass on the kiss dude, but I'll take the cookie!" He smiled.

The older nation groaned softly, shaking his head a bit, chuckling to himself. Even if the boy is in extreme pain, he always remain the same old America that he was. No amount of pain could ever change that about him. Not one ounce.

"You're not getting a cookie America! Besides, let this be a lesson to you now that you don't try to play hero all the bloody time!" The Briton lectured a bit.

"No cookie! Man, this totally blows! I'll take the kiss then!" America laughed a bit, ignoring the pain in his arm to look continue, "And yeah I have to be the hero! I mean, who else is gonna be it but me?"

The older nation almost choked on his own spit at the words that came out of America's mouth. Why did he have to be so teasingly blunt all the time? Not to mention being an idiot mostly, but still. The American moved his bandaged forearm more towards the Brit, acting as if was the most causal thing in the world.

"I'm waiting..." He laughed a bit, but through that smile he could hear the echoing cries of pain that was begging to be released.

"You stupid American..." England growled a bit, allowing his lips to ghost across the material of the bandage.

Heat was being emitted by the wound, and the man could practically feel the lingering misery that had been drowning his former colony.

"Um...dude that's enough now I-I'm all good now!" The American lied.

This didn't stop the older man's ministrations. Carefully stroking the length of the bandage which covered the bloodied wound. His lips meeting against it again. Not hearing the boys voice, too caught up in the moment to care about what he said. England had always loved the other anyway, bottling up his emotions was beginning to tick him off anyway.

"Hm...? Oh right! Sorry about that...guess I got carried away..." He mused.

"Wha-? No that was okay!..." The young nation started before quickly carrying on, "After all I told you to kiss it right?" He laughed in vain.

"America...I don't think you quiet understand...you see...I well... Alfred I lov-..."

The other country had glanced back at the older blond, still clutching his forearm close to himself. The pain was becoming far intolerable...But in that moment he felt as if all of that had suddenly left him. Only to be violently plunged back into the searing hot pain, as he heard several harsh banging, followed by groans, and grunts...

"Not again!" America jolted upwards, trying to distance himself from the noises.

The Englishman felt his heart stop at hearing how familiar sounding the groans were...like in those terrible horror movies America had. However he didn't particularly cared about himself like the selfish actors would have, he quickly followed after the American. Trying to calm him down.

"America! It's probably just your imagination!" Oh bloody hell...he heard it too, why was he even saying this?

"How can you not like hear that dude! They want to eat our flesh! I'm too young to die!"

"You're about two-hundred years old though..."

"You're totally not helping!"

There was a sudden shattering of glass being heard, followed by several fast paced footsteps. Alfred had pulled the other man fully into the room, before slamming it shut, and locking it with a very distinct _click_.

It was almost perfect timing as right after he had locked it, the door knob began to jingle, and there was banging on the thick wood of the door. America looked to the man, and bit his lip. England was however too busy cursing on how close a call that was, not to mention...

They were now locked in a room...with absolutely no way out...

"What do we do now...?"

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_Me: Holy crap! :0 A Cliffhanger! I hate those!  
xD Oh well, review for the next chapter dudes!_


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